Page 42 of Marked

“We need to find them.” I pull my hand from Zack’s grasp.

I stare at his lips. His mouth is so full, so beautiful.

“We killed him,” I say softly, waiting for the weight of guilt to crush me.

“We did.” He brushes the back of his knuckles across my cheek.

“Am I evil?” I question. “This is the first time in years I’ve felt…well…normal. That has to be a bad thing, right?”

He shakes his head.

“No, Harley. Not at all.” He cups my cheek. “You’re taking back what they stole from you. You’re not evil.”

I draw in a shaky breath.

“You are so beautiful right now.” He grins. “Like a light has flipped on inside you.”

I nod. The knot in my chest has loosened. Breathing is easier.

Zack slips his fingers through mine, wipes the blood from my hand, and lifts his hand to my cheek.

Slowly, he smears the blood across my lips.

“Much better,” he whispers then presses his mouth against mine.

His hand dives into my hair as he pushes me back against the cabinet, deepening the kiss. Through his jeans, his cock presses into my pelvis and I push my hips at him.

There’s a hunger in me, and only he can feed it.

He tears my shirt off and shoves my pants down. I kick them away. His jeans are gone in a matter of a breath, and he has his cock in me.

“Oh, god. Oh!” I dig my fingernails into his shoulders as he pumps upward into me.

“So fucking good.” He thrusts harder. I reach for him, kissing him hard as he plows into me.

We sink to the ground; he has me pinned and he’s shoving my legs back. I roll my eyes back as his lips kiss down my collarbone, over my breasts.

I’ve never felt so alive.

“Harley,” he mutters my name against my skin as he thrusts into me, his pelvis grinds into my clit. “So good.”

My insides coil tighter.

His hand slides between our bodies and he rolls my clit beneath his fingertip.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers in my ear as he bites down on my earlobe. “Such a good, good girl.”

His praise courses through my veins like cocaine. My heart gallops, and my clit swells beneath his touch.

“Oh!” I arch my back, needing him, wanting him.

“Come for me, my little bird,” he orders me and it’s the authority, the confidence in his voice that’s my undoing.

I scream as my body unravels, following his rule and exploding into a million pieces. I hope I never come back together.

“Such a good girl.” He bites down on my neck, plowing harder and harder into me. Again and again, until he freezes. Arching his back, he lifts up as his own release carries him away.

I have never seen a more beautiful sight than these small moments when he loses his control.

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